


Riding Bicycles

by fingersfallingupwards



Series: Chris Pratt character crossovers and fusions [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Parks and Recreation, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Andy is Peter, But talking trees in space, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, I know amnesia doesn't work like this, Saving the world in khakis?, because amnesia, triple crossover sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6870160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingersfallingupwards/pseuds/fingersfallingupwards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not knowing things doesn't bother Andy Dwyer. Most people call not-knowing-things being stupid. Andy doesn't know if he agrees. He sometime's wonders if he forgot his high school education along with the rest of his life when he ran into that tractor four years ago. It would explain some things. But Andy is a happy guy, so he's never worried about it that much. The past is the past. </p><p>Until the Guardians show up in Pawnee to jog his memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. amnesia ain't so bad

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Amerika at FF net for betaing this first chapter. I'm ninety percent certain I will get no hits for this fic. But I love it so I'm posting it.

Andy Dwyer will be the first to admit he doesn’t know very much. Maybe that’s just because he hangs out around some pretty smart people. Ben, though he is completely Andy’s bro, will often go on about accounting stuff with weird slang like “leaseback,” and “financing” that makes Andy’s head hurt. Leslie, who manages to be all over the office all the time, even when she’s away (via iPad), babbles with incredible speed, which Andy will catch maybe a fifth of. Tom is just as bad as Leslie. Donna and Jerry (or was it Larry?) he can understand better.

April (his angel without wings) will occasionally speak about things he doesn’t understand, but never holds it against him when he doesn’t get it. Because he understands enough to know she really loves him. Which is good because he totally loves her too. He sort of hopes any kids he has at least have his heart, even if they don’t get his head.

Sometimes he believes that maybe it isn’t because of his poor attention span or general lack of aptitude that he doesn’t get stuff, because he’ll remember the head injury he got four years ago. He forgot everything when he ran into that tractor near his grandfather’s house. Those moments after impact are his first real memories. Because when he sat up he honestly had no clue what he was doing there. Or who he was for that matter. The only familiar thing was the farm, which he vaguely recalled being “Grandpa’s.” The old man was kneeling, running worried, amazed eyes over him, and Andy wanted to laugh and tell him he was made of tougher stuff, but at the moment he didn’t remember who _Andy_ was, so he let it be. Grandpa Quill, who thinks faster than Andy does, brought him to the emergency room. There they discovered that whatever damage he received to his head wasn’t going to be easily reversible.

It’s never bothered him that he’s forgotten twenty or so years of his life. Grandpa Quill is nice enough to tell him his name is Andy Dwyer. He’s from Missouri and he likes music. His parents are both dead, which probably sucks, but seeing as he doesn’t remember growing up without them, it can’t bother him too much.

He does think maybe he forgot some education because some things are so incredibly hard for him to do. Like math. God, math sucks. Leslie put some algebraic equation in front of his face once and he asked her if it was modern art. Everyone in earshot laughed, and he did too (because why not?). The stuff on the paper made zero sense to him. Andy tries to avoid math whenever he can, literature too. Who cares if he doesn’t know who Huckleberry Sawyer and Tom Finn are? It doesn’t matter, and it certainly isn’t so funny that Tom has to tweet it. Sometimes he wonders if he read the book in the past, if he once knew who those literary creatures were. He doesn’t wonder very often.

Lost knowledge or no, the “Traumatic Brain Injury” (not his words) led him to meet Ann, who was his attending nurse at the hospital. Everything awesome that happened after, getting a job, starting a band— meeting _April—_ happened ‘cause he ran into that tractor. He’s grateful at times to remember nothing. It sure makes living in the present a ton easier. He goes after what he wants and does as he pleases. Ann says it’s because his front lobos— some part of his brain has decreased capabilities. So he’s worse at making decisions.

Andy would like to politely disagree. Because asking April to marry him is one of the best choices he’s ever made. He loves her. He loves living with her, and will love being her husband. They’re still just engaged, but there’s a lot he looks forward to, dreams about. He can’t wait.

So Andy is totally fine only remembering four years of his life (with faint slivers of memories from his past, mostly stuff with his grandpa). In fact, he forgets that he has amnesia most of the time, until he’s forced to think about it again.

He’s mostly reminded of his amnesia at times when he can’t explain why he does what he does. Once, Ron was drunk and he offered to buy Andy and April a Walkman. Andy doesn’t have the words he needs to explain how badly he wanted to take his boss up on the offer, even though he has no cassettes to listen to. Then there was the time he asked April to marry him, and he said he was the luckiest guy in the galaxy. Those words meant _more_ than he could ever make her understand.

There are also some songs that when he hears them, he shuts down. He totally spaces out, and his mind goes far away from earth.

The first time it happens he’s shopping in the store, and the Jackson 5 come on. The next thing he knows he’s in a hospital because he was nearly catatonic for three hours. His Grandpa is still his emergency contact at the time, and he wakes up to old, tired (fearful?) eyes, which he’s happy to soothe.

It isn’t the last time it’s happened. He’s blanked out in bathrooms, malls, and even on the airport escalator once.

Andy has no idea why he spaces out. It takes a handful more times losing touch with reality for an answer to be reached, and he isn’t even the one to figure it out. Ann and April do.

The first time it happens with April is when they’re at the office and Tom is showing them his new ringtone _Come and Get Your Love_ by Redbone _._ Andy knows it’s happening but can’t do anything to stop it, so he just slowly rides the ethereal currents towards the stratosphere, past the moon, and then, finally, back to his body.

Andy startles awake, and the first thing he sees is April crouching over him. He’s lying on the couch, which is a nice surprise. He’s used to waking with bumps on his head. Someone must’ve caught him.

Her brown eyes are unusually worried so he smiles and raises a hand to cup her small face.

“Babe, I went to outer space.”

“I’m going to kill Tom,” April growls, promises, before rising off the couch. “He put pot in those brownies you love, again!” she snaps, shooting towards fast footfalls disappearing in the opposite direction.

He doesn’t bother to correct her, because he knows she’s relieved. When it happens a second time, it’s while they’re actually waiting in line at the doctor’s office to get examined with their brand new free-health card.

_Ain't No Mountain High Enough_  starts playing over the crappy hospital speakers, and he drifts into the stars again. He wakes in a hospital bed with an irritated April on the phone.

“He’s awake,” she says, before immediately ending the call.

“Hi Babe,” he says, slowly sitting up. Andy is disoriented, but alright. “What’s up? Did you bring me some brownies?”

“Ann’s on her way,” April says. “And I got caught smuggling some in. Blind people shouldn’t be allowed to have dogs if they’re going to rat me out.”

Andy’s understandably upset about the brownies, but something else about her answer doesn’t quite make sense. “Why? Did she go back to being a nurse again?”

“No, she was fired for being a slut, remember?” April lets out a frustrated huff. “She’s coming ‘cause she thinks she knows what’s going on, but she wants to check.”

“Oh. Okay,” Andy says, because what else could he say?

Ann arrives fifteen minutes later, coming into the room a little disheveled with her purse in one hand and a medium sized bag in the other. He blinks and waves in greeting.

“Hi, Andy.” She walks to the side of his bed and he sees her eyes darting to the various machines beside him. He doesn’t get them, but Ann probably does.

“What took you?” April asks.

“There was a line at the Best Buy," Ann explains.

“Why were you at Best Buy?” April asks the question before Andy can. Words are still coming a little slower to his mind.

“I don’t get wifi here so my laptop was out, and my phone’s speakers suck.”

April glares a little, one of the many cute expressions she has. His happy thoughts end and curious ones take its place as Ann takes out a small speaker and hooks her phone into it.

“Alright Andy, remain calm, deep breathes,” Ann urges.

He frowns and does as she says and then _Ain’t No Mountain High Enough_ fills the air and he’s blown back to a strange planet with gold stars on everything.

When he does return to his body, he sees April, worried again and angry, and Ann resigned. He wonders what stupid thing Ann’s done to make April so angry. Andy then notices the glare is focused solely on him, and he shifts back awkwardly. He wonders what stupid thing he’s done to make April so angry. Ann looks between him and April before standing and leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

“Hi Babe,” he greets again, smiling, trying to take the edge off of her eyes. April shakes her head and grabs his hand, tightly, painfully.

“Why did you never tell me you have amnesia?” she grits out.

Andy blinks. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Of course it matters.” April’s voice is that muted, angry, awkward tone she uses when she’s confused and upset. Andy feels terrible. “What if you were some kind of mass murderer, or like a Mormon with eleven children and five wives?!”

“I’m not,” he assures her quickly. “Grandpa was there when it happened. He made sure I got myself straight. I’m not a criminal.” He smiles.

She still isn’t happy.

Andy rubs his thumb over her knuckles. “It’s okay.”

“Andy, what happens if you remember your past and you don’t, like, want to do this with me anymore? What if you don’t like me?”

“Impossible,” he says, grabbing her hand tight. “Loving you is in my DNA, Babe. I can’t stop. It’s like a disease.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles. Ann taps the door and peeks in. Seeing it’s all clear, she reenters and takes the only available chair across from April, perpendicular to Andy.

“I bought a little notebook from the convenience store next door.” She holds up a black composition book Andy completely overlooked, before she fishes a pen from her purse.

“Alright, Andy, I think what’s causing you to space out is certain songs.”

“Really?” That’s both cool and bizarre.

“Yes. I honestly don’t know why, but I thought you might want to make a list or something so we know what to avoid,” Ann says.

“But I like those songs,” slips past his lips before he can stop it. He’s on the receiving end of two very unamused looks. He means it though, and not just because of the drug-free trips to outer-space.

“I already put _Ain't No Mountain High Enough_ in there. Are there other songs you know of?” Ann asks in a businesslike manner, breezing past his words.

April looks curious now. “How many times has this happened to you?”

“Uhm, eight times. I think.”

April glares and Ann shakes her head.

“And you never mentioned it before this?” April says.

“I didn’t think it mattered.” He winces as he realizes he’s already said those words once today.

“Babe, the next time something happens to you, even if you don’t think it matters, tell me anyways,” April demands.

“Okay.” He lets out a gusty sigh.

“So, what are the other songs?” Ann asks, pen at the ready.

“Oh, the one Tom played,” April says.

“ _Come and Get Your Love,_ ” Andy fills in. “It’s by Redbone.”

Ann’s watching him carefully as she writes it down.

“So that’s two. What are the other six?”

“Let’s see,” Andy says, casting his mind back. He doesn’t want to tell them for some reason. Something in him warns him not to let those songs go, but the look in April’s eyes takes the warning in his mind down, and he quickly fills them in. “ _Cherry Bomb_ , _I’m Not in Love_ , _I Want You Back_ , uhm, _Spirit in the Sky_ , _Hooked on a Feeling_ , and _Go All the Way_.”

Ann dutifully writes down all of the songs.

“I’ve never even heard of most of these songs,” April says.

“That’s because they’re old, like from the ‘70s,” Ann explains.

“That is old. Babe, you weren’t even alive then!”

Andy sighs. “I dunno why those are the ones.” He hesitates, because there are some songs that he _knows_ without ever listening to them. The lyrics sometimes whisper through his mind in the early hours of the night, but he doesn’t remember ever hearing it aloud before. One title rises to his lips without much searching.

“Write down _O-o-h Child_.”

“I like that song,” Ann says with a smile.

“I though you said this only happened eight times,” April asks, glaring.

Andy shrugs. He doesn’t know why, but the inexplicably precious nature of the song lets him know it would take him to a new galaxy if he let it.

The blanking out incidents continue happening at random, and he does better at finding his way back to his body from someplace really far away. April helps a lot, because he knows she’s there, waiting for him to come back down.

“What’s it like?” April asks. They’re sitting in bed and April’s writing _That Piña-Colada song from the movies_ into his composition notebook. They’ve only used two pages, and a lot of it is doodles.

“Andy,” she says. “What’s it like where you go?”

It’s the first time she’s ever asked. His mind blanks until a few jagged, half-formed visuals appear.

“There’s a tree,” he answers after a time. “Raccoons. Stars. A giant skull floating in the middle of a nebula.”

She smirks and laughs. “You’re messing with me. And since when do you know what a nebula is?”

“Four years ago,” he answers honestly, and she rolls her eyes.

April is as nice as Ann when it comes to his amnesia. Maybe even nicer. Because April does this awesome thing she does where she buries the matter and never mentions it again. Ann would occasionally make queries, double check that he was okay. April is entirely happy to forget it. Andy is too. Whoever he was before, he probably didn’t have a kickass fiancé like Andy has.

At least he hopes they didn't.

That would make things awkward between him and April.


	2. there ain't no easy way to say this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guardians pay our favorite Pawnee resident a little visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd. And again, I'm just playing off of misconceptions on Mormonism.

Andy’s sitting in the most comfortable sofa chair playing Temple Run next to April when the doorbell rings. He sends his most pitiful look towards April who rolls her eyes and stands to get the door. From his place on the sofa he can’t see who’s on the other side, but he can see April who is entirely unamused. He glances at her from the corner of his eye as he swipes up to avoid a tree root.

“Is it Comicon?” she asks.

“What the hell is that?” a male voice asks. April raises a brow.

“We are here to—“ another male voice starts.

“I don’t give candy to adults.” April shuts the door and starts back for Andy, hopefully to his lap. Before she gets very far the doorbell rings again and she makes a short sign of irritation before heading back and opening it again.

“What do you want?” she asks dryly.

“We’re looking for Peter Quill.”

Andy’s eyes widen. He’s surprised enough to mess up and let his character get eaten by monkeys. Which is disappointing, but the strangers seem pretty interesting too. He wonders how they know his grandpa.

It seems April has made the connection about Grandpa Quill too because she turns towards him.

“Hey, Babe, do you have a relative named Peter Quill?” she asks.

“I don’t know. I can always call my grandpa,” he replies. Andy hears some soft discussion from the visitors at the door about something he said, and he’s curious by this point. Curious enough to put his phone down and leave the comfort of his chair.

Andy goes behind April, wrapping a hand around her waist as he takes in the odd appearance of their visitors. There’s a girl with green skin and some seriously tight clothes. Her hair is pretty neat though, all red and black. A raccoon is on the doormat beside her dressed in a jumpsuit. It has a gun, so maybe a kid, or a little person. Then there’s a massive guy who looks like he could be a heavy-weight wrestler. And a tree. A realistic tree Ent-thing.

Andy smiles. They’re either on the way to a convention, or they got the date for Halloween confused. It happens to everyone.

His smile falters as he sees various looks of shock and disbelief on their faces as they stare at him. It’s the big guy who acts first, moving forward and grabbing him. Andy barely pushes April out of the way fast enough. The life is being squeezed out of him. Like _, ow_.

“Let. Him. Go!”

He hears April shouting. If he had the air he’d tell her he’s completely fine, but as he doesn’t he just waits for unconsciousness.

“Alright, let up, big guy,” the raccoon thing says, and the wrestler dude finally lets go, much to Andy’s relief. He staggers back to the wall as he tries to catch his breath. He opens his mouth to say thanks to the raccoon, when it scuttles up his body quickly and begins smacking his head.

“Where the hell were you?!”

The pain in the creature’s voice is what catches Andy the most, and he feels some strange flow of compassion in his being. The green-skinned chick picks the raccoon off his head, and as Andy and she make eye contact, he sees the same pain, just unvoiced. Even the tree creature looks sad. But also happy. The tree thing actually smiles at Andy.

April quickly returns to Andy’s side, half in front of him.

“What the hell do you people want?”

“We’ve been looking for you, Peter,” the green-skinned girl says, keeping tight eye-contact with him. Andy doesn’t understand for a minute until he does.

“Oh, OH. I’m not Peter; my name’s Andy. Andy Dwyer. You must have me confused with someone else.”

“This isn’t funny, Quill,” the raccoon thing says.

“Er, I’m not Quill. My grandfather’s last name is Quill,” Andy explains.

“We know. He’s the one who pointed us here,” the wrestler says.

“What? Why?” Andy asks.

The green-skinned girl pauses for a long moment before she speaks again.

“Because, we’ve been looking for you, Peter. For the past four years.”

Something awful clicks in his mind, and he takes a step back.

“Oh! Shit.”

“What is it?” April and the green chick both ask, intent, concerned. They then glare at each other.

“I, um, have amnesia.” Andy winces at the looks of shock on the strangers’ faces.

“That old man is a liar!” the big guy shouts.

“Huh?”

“Your grandfather failed to mention the amnesia. He merely told us that we shouldn’t interrupt your life,” the green-skinned woman says stiffly.

“Babe.”

Andy looks down at April, and behind her harsh gaze he finds concern and worry. He smiles and wraps his arm around her waist. Now that he knows what’s going on, he feels himself relax.

“You all aren’t murderers and thieves, right?” he asks, looking back up at them.

The raccoon and muscular dude both look confused, but before they can say anything the green-skinned girl steps forward and shakes her head.

“No, we’re not.”

“Then come on in,” he invites. All of them are startled by the offer, but awkwardly filter in after exchanging glances. Andy quickly ushers them to the sitting room before April catches him by the forearm and brings him back to the kitchen.

“Andy, I don’t like them in my house,” she says lowly.

“Yeah, I know but this is an opportunity, to like, figure out some of my past.”

And she’s not happy, not at all, but under his pleading gaze Andy sees her buckling and he kisses her fondly.

“You were a LARPer in your past life,” April says against his lips, accusingly.

“At least I wasn’t a Mormon,” he tries.

April rolls her eyes and mutters, “C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

She lets him tote her back into the living room. They aren’t used to hosting a lot of people, so the woman, raccoon, and wrestler are all on their sofa. The tree thing has taken one of the wooden chairs (Andy notes the leaves and dirt around the floor on the chair). Only one sofa chair is left, so Andy sits down and perches April on his lap. He sees them giving him odd looks. All of their friends and coworkers have gotten used to him holding April all the time, but the pair still catch sideways glances when they’re out and about. Andy’s always found it hard to care.

“So what’re your names?” April asks bluntly.

The green skinned woman clears her throat. “My name is Gamora, this is Drax.” She points to the muscly guy.

The raccoon taps his chest. “I’m Rocket.”

“I am Groot,” the plant thing speaks for the first time. The raccoon dude— _Rocket_ stares at Groot for a few moments before shaking his head.

“Well, you already know I’m Andy. This is April, she’s my fiancé.” And he can’t say the sentence without grinning.

Rocket, Gamora and Drax all make very subtle eye contact that Andy thinks most people would miss. He doesn’t though, and he sort of wonders what that means.

“So, where did I meet you all?” Andy asks to get the ball rolling.

“Oh that’s a touching story,” Rocket says sarcastically.

Gamora stalls. “We met— well—“

“Jail. We met in Jail.” Rocket says bluntly.

“It was rather touching,” Drax says, nodding in solemn agreement. Andy can’t compute his utter seriousness. Nor the fact that Drax isn’t lying or being sarcastic. But most concerning are the words.

Andy’s eyes widen. “I was in jail? Really?”

Rocket starts snickering (and god that costume is so real looking, twitching whiskers and all).

“Well, not quite. It was prison.”

Drax snorts. “We did not spend much time in there.”

“Prison break.” Rocket winks.

“It was a nice bonding experience,” Drax says, dead serious once again, and Andy wonders vaguely how he knows Drax doesn’t exaggerate.

“I was a criminal?! Oh shit, I’m sorry, April.” Andy grips her tighter and searches her eyes.

“What are you apologizing to her for?” Rocket asks, bemused.

“I promised her I wasn’t a criminal or a Mormon!” Andy groans. He stares at them and doesn’t see an ounce of understanding.

“Why would you promise her something like that?” Drax asks. “And what is a Mormon?” And he has this strange and awkward eloquence when he speaks that Andy can’t help but find charming.

“They’re these religious people— but I mean, that’s not really the point, I think. I’m not a murderer! I’m a good guy. I don’t kill people!”

“Unless they deserve it,” Gamora says, mostly under her breath, but he hears.

“I am Groot,” the tree thing says.

The raccoon rolls his eyes. “Or they hurt friends. Yeah, yeah, we know you’re a big softie, Groot.”

“What the hell?” April rubs her forehead, and Andy turns back to her.

“Hey, babe, I’m so sorry I lied to you. I didn’t mean to.”

“You have amnesia, obviously you didn’t mean to,” Rocket points out.

“It isn’t that big of a deal. Our records were expunged,” Gamora assures at his harried look.

“Really? Thank God.” Andy exhales.

Rocket looks like he wants to say something, but a short silent exchange with Gamora leaves him crossing his arms.

“Peter—“

“ _Andy_ ,” April presses, cutting Gamora off. The green-skinned woman clears her throat and narrows her eyes.

“His name is Peter. You can call his grandfather,” Gamora challenges.

Andy licks his lips. His heart feels weird and he’s pretty sure he’s squeezing April a bit too tightly. She puts up with it and he loves her _so_ much.

“He told me it was Andy,” Andy tries.

“He lied. It’s Peter,” Rocket says shortly. “You didn’t remember it after the accident, yeah? He lied and gave you a new one.”

Andy’s sure he looks as lost as he feels. “Why?”

“To keep you here,” Gamora explains.

“Why would I leave?” Andy asks.

“Because he did not believe you should continue living your life as you were before, Quill,” Drax says.

“He’s telling the truth, Peter.” Gamora’s voice is firm like her eyes.

“It’s Andy.” He wishes it sounded less like a question. “I-I-I have papers and—“

“Forged,” Rocket waves it away.

“But my name has always been Andy,” he replies, and there’s an attempt to put into words what he can’t express.

“If you have amnesia, how do you know?” the raccoon asks, meaner than Andy thinks is appropriate.

“Maybe I gave you a fake name?” he tries. “And my real name is Andy.”

“I am Groot.”

Rocket interprets. “Groot’s got a point; you already have a made up name and it’s not Andy. Besides, your name was written on your backpack.”

“My backpack?” Andy has no idea what that has to do with the words ‘I am Groot’.

“It was on you when you were, uh, picked up.” Gamora says, eyes sliding covertly to April.

“Picked up?” he asks.

“...Your grandfather didn’t tell you anything, did he?” the raccoon asks slowly, a building unhappiness in his eyes echoed by the rest of them.

Andy shifts in his seat, feeling defensive. “He told me the important stuff. My name, and where I was before. I was out of the state, came in to visit. Then I ran into a tractor and lost my memory.”

“Tractor- _beam_ maybe,” Rocket snorts.

April furrows a brow. “What?”

“Nothing. Continue.”

Andy’s embarrassed to admit that there isn’t very much left to say.

“He, uh, told me about high school. And the rest of my family, and my parents.”

“Parents? He told you about your parents?” Gamora asks with an intense look.

The question has more weight in it than Andy feels it should.

“Yeah, they died when I was just a kid.”

Rocket hits his face with his paw. Drax shakes his head and Andy’s left at a loss.

“Your father is still alive, though you’ve never met him,” Gamora clarifies.

“What?!” Andy gapes at her.

“Seriously?!” April exclaims, mouth open.

“...Seriously,” Gamora replies, eyeing April skeptically.

“Wow,” he murmurs aloud.

“This is big, Andy,” April says, hand on his arm.

And it is, and he lets it sit in his mind. He dwells on it for all of ten seconds before shrugging.

“Okay.”

“Andy,” April says, smiling and disapproving and proud.

“That was far simpler than the previous time,” Drax comments.

“Did I freak out the first time?” And he sort of wonders when he started believing that he knew them all four years ago. Andy has no proof, hasn’t thought to call his grandfather to confirm it. But it’s the way they look at him. Like they know him, like _him him._ He’s uncertain if it’s comforting or terrifying. But on the whole, he thinks it’s pretty cool.

“No, but you had that daddy-issues glaze over your eyes for months,” Rocket says.

Andy shrugs. “Won’t see none of that here. I don’t remember my parents.”

Gamora’s eyes widen. “You don’t remember your mother,” she states quietly.

“’Course not.”

“Now that’s just not right.” Rocket says.

“She died when I was four,” Andy says.

Gamora looks at him with this emphatic look. It’s kind of like April’s, hidden behind a barrier of seeming detachment. “No. She died when you were nine. She raised you. You loved her.”

There’s a stretch of silence where all of them stare at Andy. He reaches into his mind, searches for something that looks or feels like what he thinks a mom should be. But there isn’t anything there— never has been, to his knowledge.

 “Sorry?” Andy tries before shaking his head. “I dunno what to tell you all.”

“Perhaps we can jog your memory,” Gamora begins.

“Yes, we do have some of your possessions on the ship.” Drax smiles.

“Ship?! Are you all pirates?” That would be awesome.

“No... we have a space ship,” Gamora explains.

“A space ship?” Andy asks.

“I am Groot,” the plant says, and Andy catches the drift.

“That’s awesome.”

“They’re obviously lying, Andy!” April snaps. “Do they look like they’re from NASA?”

Andy pauses and looks them over, taking in their costumes.

“Yeah, you have a point.” He sighs, disappointed.

Rocket bares his teeth. “We’re not your normal space travelers, humie.”

“Humie?” April deadpans.

There’s an awkward pause.

“You… think we’re all Terran, don’t you?” Gamora says slowly.

“Terran?” Andy utters.

She explains, “From earth, from here.”

“Uhh, yes? Unless you’re from Mars,” April says sarcastically.

Rocket scoffs. “No one with any brains would live there.”

There’s a pause.

“We are not human,” Drax states.

“Sure,” Andy agrees, getting into the spirit of their LARPing.

“No, Quill, really,” the raccoon insists.

“His name is Andy,” April says, expression really dark and serious.

“Whatever!” Rocket exclaims. “That doesn’t change that we’re telling the truth. C’mon, look at me! You know I ain’t human.”

And staring at him suddenly becomes… unnerving. Because when Rocket was perched on Andy’s shoulder he must’ve weighed around sixty pounds, with the gun on his back and all. And a person can’t be that small unless they were a kid, and the way that guy talks, he’s not a child. He isn’t a little person either. His claws shift and curl with a dexterity that no costume nor robot can fake. His ears swivel on occasion, and droop and straighten of their own accord. For all intents and purposes, he is a raccoon. But raccoons can’t talk. But what else is there?

Sensing his uncertainty, Rocket makes a gesture to the plant who says,

“I am Groot.”

“Just do it,” Rocket replies.

The next thing Andy knows, he’s been picked clean off the ground. He feels branches _wrapping around_ his body. He’s positioned horizontally on the back of the tree thing— on _Groot—_ and the floor is frighteningly far away and moving beneath him.

“Holy shit! April! April!” He twists, and fights and cranes his neck to keep her in sight, and he hates the fear that’s actually out from behind her eyes, the walls that are always there have been broken by panic.

“Andy!” she cries, and he’s helpless, utterly helpless to soothe her as she and the floor of their house disappears below him, and he sees concrete.

“Stay here,” Gamora says from somewhere behind him.

“Ow, don’t bite!” Rocket complains, from the back. “That’s not fair.”

“Leave her alone! I’ll come with you, just don’t hurt her,” Andy shouts.

“Such a drama queen,” Rocket calls.

“Quill is not a queen,” Drax, adds in.

“Metaphor, c’mon, we’ve been working on this,” Rocket says, stepping beside Groot and into Andy’s line of sight.

“Andy!” April’s call is farther away, he can’t see her.

“Don’t hurt her!” he pleads.

“We’re not gonna hurt her,” Rocket says dismissively, gaze forward.

“I am Groot.”

“You already said that,” Andy says, irritable.

“His vocabulistics aren’t great so he don’t speak good like you and I. His vocabulistics are limited to ‘I’ and ‘am’ and ‘Groot’. Exclusively in that order,” Rocket explains.

“That’s not going to get annoying.”

Rocket’s ears twitch and the raccoon glances over at him. Andy finds something indescribably sad and happy in the gaze.

“Yeah, Quill. Yeah.”

Before Andy can ask about the sorrow or wonder at the joy, Rocket steps out of his line of sight and the emotions are gone.

Despite Andy’s protests, and he has been pretty damn vocal, they continue walking for at least an hour. He wonders why the hell no one’s stopped them yet. He’s screaming bloody murder, and they looked armed and dangerous... actually, that might be why. Andy takes it back and gives up eventually.

“Uncloak the ship, Drax.”

“We should wait for Gamora,” Drax says.

Andy blinks. He assumed she came with them. The fact that she didn’t means she’s probably in only one other place.

“You left her with April?! She looks like a badass fighting chick!”

“She _is_ a badass fighting chick.” Rocket moves out of his line of sight.

“I do not believe that’s helping,” Drax points out mildly.

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone gang up on me.” There’s a strange clicking followed by a hiss of what sounds like steam. The ground beneath Andy shifts to cool metal as the plant creature moves into, what he assumes, is their ship.

The plant puts him down with a delicate touch, making sure he’s fully settled on the ground before letting go. Groot smiles, and despite the tension, Andy quirks a half-grin back. He takes a moment to observe his surroundings. He’s... definitely on a space ship. There are screens floating in the air, a three dimensional globe swirling idly in a center, and these strange creatures he now knows are aliens, fit right in. Andy can’t help it; his mouth falls open.

Rocket lets out a snicker but Andy ignores him.

“This is your ship?” he asks, turning around in a circle to try and see everything.

“Yep. This is the _Milano.”_

Andy’s eyes widen. “Dude, that is exactly what I would name a ship if I had one. That is so freaky-cool!”

Rocket coughs.

“This is your ship,” Drax informs him.

“I am Groot.”

“ _Our_ ship,” Rocket clarifies. “But you were the one to name it.”

“That’s awesome.” Andy’s eyes are wide. He doesn’t really believe them, but it’s a cool thought. “Hey, could you take me up some time? I totally want to see space!”

Rocket’s grinning sharply and Drax has a smile on his face. The hiss of the door opening and the appearance of Gamora reminds Andy abruptly of the situation.

“Shit. No, I can’t do that.” He turns to Gamora. “Is April okay? You didn’t hurt her, right?”

Gamora approaches him and puts a hand on his shoulder, a familiar gesture that doesn’t feel as out of place as it should.

“April is fine. A little hysterical, but she’ll be alright.”

“Okay, thanks.” Andy lets out a sigh before he realizes what he said and he groans. “I take that back, ‘cause you’re the ones who abducted me to begin with!”

Rocket snorts on the word. “Abducted?”

“Alien abduction,” Andy says with a nod. “…You’re not going to eat my brains, right?”

“We’re not hungry right now.”

Gamora sends Rocket a sharp look for his trouble and the raccoon looks vaguely apologetic.

“We didn’t mean to abduct you, we just knew you wouldn’t believe us otherwise. _Some_ of us are a little more impulsive than others,” Gamora says meaningfully.

“That is usually I.” Drax looks almost proud of the fact.

“We just want to show you a few things,” Gamora says.

Andy is on a spaceship surrounded by aliens who haven’t definitively ruled out eating his brains. They can show him whatever they want.

He nods. “Alright.”

Gamora turns and walks away from their little group, but she doesn’t leave the room. Instead she walks towards the wall which has a cool looking retro stereo installed. She clicks the play button and _Come and Get Your Love_ starts playing. Andy feels the numbness spreading.

“Aw, shit. I’m not supposed to—“ His eyes fall shut and he slips into the dark silence of the galaxy.

Andy stirs. He feels the blankets and padding of a bed. He almost thinks he’s at home, but the lack of April in his arms lets him know better. They always have sex in the morning. He sits up and looks around and is greeted to the sight of four anxious aliens. Rocket is arguing with Gamora a little away from his bed while Drax stands between the two, perhaps to mediate. Groot is the only one actually looking at Andy, and despite the fact he was kidnapped, he kind of likes the plant. Said plant smiles and utters,

“I am Groot.”

The other three’s heads snap around and they immediately approach his bed.

“How ya feeling, Quill?”

“Like I was in a brief coma,” he answers, standing up. “And I told you, my name is Andy.”

There are visible signs of disappointment. Drooping furry ears, crossed arms, and avoidance of eye contact. He sighs.

“Look, I dunno what you thought was going to happen, but I can’t just return to being this Quill guy. I don’t even know who that is!”

“It’s you,” Gamora says, softly, mutedly. “You’re the same person, mostly. You just don’t remember.”

“Yeah, well, that’s kind of a big deal.”

“We were hoping listening to your old mixtape would bring back memories,” Drax informs him.

“My old mixtape,” he murmurs curiously, and Gamora places a totally ancient cassette into his hands. It’s well-worn, and the label is fading. In nice blue ink it reads, ‘Awesome Mix Vol. 1’.

“I believe it was a gift from your mother,” Gamora tells him, and his eyes widen.

“A gift from my mother,” he murmurs reverently. It’s suddenly imbued with a sacred power. It’s possible she touched this, listened to it— he stops his excitement early though, because he’ll never meet this imaginary person he’s building in his head, so he shakes the thoughts from his mind and quickly hands it back to Gamora, who hesitantly accepts it.

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, we’re all wondering why you collapsed,” Rocket says.

Andy shrugs. “Some songs make me blank out. I drift away for a couple hours. It’s pretty strange.”

Gamora takes a sharp breath before clearing her throat. “These songs wouldn’t include _Hooked on a Feeling, Cherrybomb, Fooled Around and Fell in Love_ —“

“How did you know?” he blurts.

“They’re all songs on your mix tape,” she says.

Andy pauses and tries to understand why songs on a mixtape he apparently owned but doesn’t remember would cause him to drift into space for a while. He doesn’t find an answer so he decides to ignore it. His head has begun to hurt and he’s worried about April.

“Look, it was cool meeting you all, er, I mean again, I guess,” Andy says. “But I really gotta go check on April. Thanks for showing me your ship.”

Gamora storms up to him, making him pedal backwards. He’s nearly tripping over himself to get away and yet somehow they end up nose to nose anyways.

“Peter Quill, you have to be an idiot to think we will let you go after searching for you for four years.” She glares at him. Drax, Groot, and Rocket all make sounds to support her.

“But that’s just it,” he exclaims. “I’m not Peter Quill! I’m Andy Dwyer!” All of them go still at his statement.

“I’m sure space is awesome, and yes, I totally wanna visit there, but I can’t. I’m not that guy, and besides, I have April. I could never leave her.”

He does his best to avoid the blank and or pained looks his little speech earns him.

“Could one of y’all let me off your ship?”

 

+

 

Andy walks home. The ship is skillfully hidden amid a dense forest, spattered with massive pines, so it takes a while for him to find his way back. When he does reach his street, he finds police cars parked outside his house. April is standing in the doorway looking distraught, and he runs to her. She sees him coming and she sprints to meet him halfway. They collide almost painfully with a ridiculously passionate kiss.

Then she smacks him.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Why do you make me care and worry about you?!” she demands.

“Aw, I’m sorry, babe,” he says, rubbing her arm soothingly.

“You better be.”

“Ma’am, can we leave now?” A police officer interrupts their reunion and is rewarded by one of April’s more scathing glares that Andy just loves.

“Get off of our yard,” she says shortly before all but dragging Andy back into their house. April starts heading to the living room, but stops halfway there and changes directions to their bedroom instead.

“What happened?” April demands.

Andy kicks his shoes off and lies down on the bed, trying to sort the truth out for himself. April crawls in next to him and puts her head on his chest.

“Those people took me to their alien spaceship, which was sorta pretty awesome— it’s named the _Milano_ How cool is that?!”

“Not cool,” April deadpans.

“Anyways, they asked me to go with them to space, I said no, we spoke a little and then I left and came back.” Super abridged version of his day.

“Why did that take you three hours?” she asks, eyes narrow.

“I got lost. And, er, had another little spacy-out thing.”

“They play the Jackson Five in space?”

“Funny story.” And it isn’t, but Andy will try and sell it that way anyways. “Apparently my mom made me a mix tape forever ago that I had on the ship. And guess what’s on it?”

“All of the songs that make you space out?” she asks mutedly.

Andy nods. “Yep.”

“So you believe them, then?” she inquires. “Because it could be the government pranking us, or alien mind control.”

“I do believe them...” Andy answers hesitantly. “They _know_ things. It’s really weird.”

April stares at him for a long time, searching. Andy stays still and keeps eye contact for as long as she wants. Eventually she blinks.

There’s a long pause before April asks.

“You sure you don’t want to go up into space with them?”

“I do want to,” Andy says honestly. “Maybe for like a couple of days, but I’d rather stay on Earth forever with you.”

“That’s so cool of you, Andy.” April smirks.

Someone’s getting laid tonight.

And it’s him.

 

+

 

After Peter leaves the _Milano_ things are subdued. Quill’s departing words about him not being _him_ leave all of them feeling frustrated and empty. And if there’s one emotion Rocket hates, it’s feeling empty, so he forces himself to focus on the former emotion.

Shoving Peter’s mix-tape off the holodeck, he grits his teeth and says, “What a jerk!”

“It isn’t his fault he doesn’t remember.” Gamora frowns and picks up the mix-tape, handling it carefully, like glass.

“I believe friend Rocket was referencing Quill’s Grandfather,” Drax says.

“No, I was not. I was referencing _Andy_. Who does he think he is?! Goddamn asshole!” Rocket hisses. Gamora frowns as she returns the tape to its case beside the stereo system.

Drax opens his mouth but all of them shoot him a look and he promptly closes it. Thankfully.

“I am Groot.”

“I know we should be thankful we even found Quill, but what good is that if he doesn’t even know he _is_ Quill?!” Rocket exclaims.

“We just have to jog his memory,” Gamora asserts.

“Not with the mix-tape.” Rocket snorts. “How wrong is that?”

“I am Groot.”

“Quill without his mother… very unsettling indeed,” Drax murmurs in agreement.

Rocket shifts, more uncomfortable than he wants to put into words. After a drinking contest in which Rocket cheated his way to victory, he heard about how Quill ended up in space from a backwater planet like Terra. Examining all he knew about Quill, it was easy to see how his mother and her death shaped his every action, defined who he was until he was strong enough to define himself. Even that has echoes of her.

His mother is the explanation behind the mix-tape which says everything about Quill. The loss of that piece of history makes Rocket question if Peter is still Peter without it…

But earlier, Quill repeated lines from years ago that bring Rocket back to when they first met. That has to mean something.

“It’s terrible, I know,” Gamora says. “But we have to think about what we do now.”

“If Quill does not wish to come with us—“ Drax starts.

“We are _not_ leaving him,” Gamora hisses.

“I am Groot.”

Gamora makes a slightly choked sound and Rocket bristles.

“Groot!” he hisses.

“I am glad you agree with me, friend Groot.” Drax nods. “If Peter has made a place for himself here, then it is not our place to disrupt it.”

Rocket bristles more. Drax is talking about April,

“His place is with us,” Rocket says.

“If he intends to make a family here, then it is of no interest to any of us,” Drax replies.

Rocket doesn’t even bother to look at Gamora. He knows the thoughts running through her mind. They belong to him too.

“I am Groot.”

“This _is_ about Peter’s happiness,” Gamora asserts. “He wouldn’t want to live a lie.”

“As he lives without the burden of his past, this is potentially a better life for him,” Drax argues.

“Yeah, til something stupid trips the idiot switch in his brain and he suddenly remembers everything. Then he’s got this whole life built as a new, normal humie and nothing is alright,” Rocket says.

“I am Groot.”

“He can’t make a decision because he doesn’t remember! Pay attention!” Rocket snaps.

“If Peter, or Andy, as he prefers to be called, wants to stay we cannot force him to come. We already tried to with less pleasing consequences,” Drax says. And when the guy wants to be logical and argumentative, he can be and it pisses Rocket off.

“He can’t make a decision until he remembers things,” Gamora rebuts.

“I am Groot.”

“Maybe not, but you can’t say it won’t come back either. We don’t know that for sure. Brains are tricky messes,” Rocket says. “Especially when it’s some humie’s brain. Besides, Quill’s mind wasn’t exactly a prime example of healthy, even before he crash landed and knocked what little sense he had out of his head.”

“So, we must be persistent,” Gamora asserts, furthering their argument.

Drax frowns.

“This is not a place we can linger. We have had to reprogram the shield settings to remain undetected twice. Even then, we do not blend in. If Peter is happy and with those who care for him, we should let him live here and build a family.”

Rocket wants to hiss and claw at Drax because they all _made_ a family here on the _Milano_. They had something really special. Drax is dismissing it all because he thinks Peter can get it better somewhere else. Rocket thinks Drax is just projecting his desires to have a wife and child and a goddamn four seater mini-shuttle onto Peter. And Peter doesn’t deserve that. Because Peter fit in the category with Gamora and Rocket, not knowing what it was like to have a normal family or life, or having only wisps and false shadows. The three made facsimiles of what they thought it could and should be, guided by Drax’s knowledge and Groot’s calm acceptance of everything. Rocket was damn proud of it.

And maybe it is selfish of him to want Peter back because he’s one of the handful of family and friends that Rocket has, but Peter means too much to all of them and the rest of the universe to live and die quietly on this backwater planet.

“One try is not sufficient,” Gamora says. “He needs time to process the information. Let us visit him tomorrow. Just you and I. We will stand out less.” She says the last part to Rocket who wishes he could rebuff her words but can’t.

“Very well,” Drax agrees. “We will see what he thinks of all this.”

“Whatever,” Rocket mutters.

No one leaves the meeting happy. Drax is stoic, Gamora determined, Groot concerned, and Rocket anxious. He can’t help but think that Peter would know how to repair everything, to make Drax pause in confusion and prove Drax is flawed and normal, force Gamora to laugh against her stubborn wishes to remain aloof, soothe Groot with the promise that he can make things better, and unwind the taut knots in Rocket’s body with sarcastic banter that no one else indulges him in.

It isn’t the first time Rocket’s had these thoughts. And it’ll either be the last because he’ll have Peter back, or it’ll merely fade away because he’ll have to urge himself to forget that Peter is on Terra, being dull and mundane and not like himself.

Rocket wants the former so badly that he thinks he might vibrate though the _Milano._ It hurts that Gamora is his only ally in this endeavor, but at least he isn’t alone.

And he isn’t alone ever, he still has his friends and pseudo-family even after all the shit they’ve been through. Rocket just wants to be less alone, and Peter’s the only one who can do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More soon-ish. This'll probably wrap up at a neat 20-25,000 words. Leave a comment or kudos if you have a moment and feel so inclined :)


	3. No Power on Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our guardians and outside forces nudge the plot along, and Drax heartily approves of April.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a LOT of headcanons in this, so bear with me.
> 
> Also, my parks and rec references are kind of a lot, so if a sentence seems especially weird, it's probably referencing a weird part of the show.

Andy’s at work the next day, despite his rather traumatic adventure the previous afternoon. He doesn’t think alien abduction is a good enough explanation for not showing up for work when they’re in the middle of planning a festival that Leslie is up the wall about. Besides, it’s none of their business. So he assumes.

But it seems not to be the case because when he steps through the doors, Ron casually walks out from his office and says he’s pleased the aliens did not perform scientific experiments on him.

“Sorry, I sort of called Leslie when you went missing,” April admits. “I didn’t know what else to do.” And Andy hates the thought of her feeling helpless, so he accepts the apology and tries to move on. It’s hard with his coworkers making little jokes and comments all day.

It’s while he’s in a meeting with everyone that he snaps.

“Look, yesterday, some people I used to know came by the house. They LARP and they tried to take me with them to jog my memory, and that’s all that happened! So stop talking about it!”

A pause at his unusual outburst of anger.

Tom opens his mouth. “Why would they need to jog your memory?”

Andy shifts a little awkwardly. “I kind of have complete amnesia except for four years ago.”

“What!” Leslie exclaims.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Donna says. Jerry looks gobsmacked, and Ron’s eyes actually widen with surprise.

“You never told us you have amnesia!” Leslie says (accuses).

“Bullshit. You’re just messing with us.” Tom snorts.

“As the nurse that treated Andy, I can promise you, he’s telling the truth,” Ann says from her seat at the conference table.

Tom goes quiet.

“It actually explains a lot,” Ron says before turning back to the docket.

Leslie is still spluttering at the front of the table. “You have _amnesia_?!”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Andy complains, trying to end the situation. He really does not want to be talking about this in front of everyone.

“Oh yes it is!” Leslie cries.

He winces. She’s actually the last person on the earth who he’d want to know something like that. ‘Cause she just gets so excited about everything. Ann pulls Leslie aside and says some things quietly and Andy is just grateful when she leaves him mostly alone.

His energy has left him so he spends the rest of the morning on the ground behind his desk, reading files and avoiding Leslie’s probing questions he can’t answer because he doesn’t know the answers. He still hears all the comments flying above his head, or whispered not-quietly enough. Hopefully it’ll go back to normal in a couple days. That’s what April says when she slinks up next to him on the ground during lunch. They have a make-out session and she feeds him brownies. He’s feeling a lot better.

Until Tom leans down to ask,

“Hey, Andy, did you say your friends were LARPers?”

“Not in the mood for a joke right now, Tom,” Andy snips as April rubs his shoulders.

When a familiar female clears her throat, Andy jolts up and hits his head. He groans and rubs his forehead before he turns to the right and sees Gamora and Drax standing there, looking incredibly out of place amid the federal office and its workers. Tom blatantly ogles Gamora, and Jerry just looks frightened. Donna is scoping them out critically, and Andy is too grateful that Leslie is at a meeting.

Andy quickly gets off the ground.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demands. Both take his words in stride.

“We came to talk to you. We feel as though we left things unfinished last time,” Drax says.

April stands up and grabs him around the waist.

“You aren’t kidnapping my fiancé again,” April says darkly.

“We left Rocket and Groot behind this time,” Gamora assures him.

Andy snorts. “Like you or Drax couldn’t carry me out if you wanted to.”

Tom starts snickering while Donna fans herself, looking at Drax.

“Why do you think I could lift you?” Gamora asks suddenly.

“I dunno, you’re strong.” Andy shrugs.

“I am.” She nods, looking pleased about something.

“Are you okay, Andy,” Ann asks, peeking out of Leslie’s office. Andy doesn’t know so he shrugs.

“You know, I don’t usually do role-playing, but there is an exception to every rule, and I think that it’s you in red leather,” Tom says.

Andy has to laugh for some reason, not because Tom is ridiculous (he’s used to and immune to that), but because he said it to _Gamora_. He doesn’t know why it tickles him pink, but it does. He’s the only one laughing, but Andy never minds that.

“I believe Rocket may have a point about the sense being dislodged from Peter’s mind upon crash landing,” Drax says.

Gamora nods, looking at Andy with a raised brow.

“What?” Andy asks.

“Nothing, Peter,” Gamora says.

“And if you want to call me Peter, I’m cool with that. I role-play. I’m flexible in a lot of ways and I can do any role you want. I own a little business called Rent-A-Swag. Maybe you’ve heard of it,” Tom continues.

“We have not. And it would be unwise to have both of you have the same name.” Drax nods to himself.

“Your name is Peter? That’s a nice name. Is Andy your middle name?” Garry asks Andy.

“Shut up, Terry, or I’ll cut your brakes, lock you in your car and roll it down a hill towards your house,” April promises.  _"On Christmas."_

That’s right, his name is Larry.  Andy is always forgetting. April’s so smart to remember though.

“It is not Andy; Peter Quill is his true name,” Gamora says.

Andy’s coworkers exchange glances with each other. Ann and Donna look at him to confirm or deny, but Andy’s getting a little turned around at this point so he settles an arm over April and plays with a loose thread at the collar of her shirt. They should go shopping. Actually, they should go shopping and he’ll sneak into the changing stall and they’ll have sex and she can play dress up and he’ll tease her the whole time and she’ll smirk and it’ll be good.

It seems that Drax hasn’t quite moved on from his last thought. He tends to space out, Andy knows for some reason.

“If you do share the same name, a modifier must be added at the end to eliminate confusion. Where I am from, no one has the same first name and modifier. For example, there is Drax the Glassblower whereas I am Drax the Destroyer,” Drax explains.

There’s a pause.

“I can work with that,” Donna says. Tom makes an ‘ooo’ sound from behind his hand.

“I do not think being coworkers together would be wise,” Drax replies.

Andy is spared the explanation for Drax’s behavior by Ron, who opens his door and stares for all of three seconds before clearing his throat.

“Either Leslie has managed to shanghai performers for the girl-scout rally or you two are past friends of Andy.”

“You send girls as your scouts?” Drax asks. “They are small and therefore quick, but very vulnerable. I find you choice unwise,” Drax says.

“These aren’t performers,” April says, glaring at Drax and Gamora. “They’re stalkers and they’re trespassing on private government property. I think we need to escort them out. Using guns.”

“It’s a public building, actually,” Garry says.

“Shut up, Harry, or I’ll kill you,” April says. “Andy is my property, so it’s still trespassing.”

Andy kisses her like she’s oxygen.

“Is this normal here? I feel that this workplace is very unprofessional,” Drax says, watching them.

“You have no idea,” Ron agrees. And the image of Drax and Ron together is almost enough to crack Andy up again. He can see them drinking scotch and criticizing things together in their dry manners. April is insistent though, so he keeps sucking face.

“Peter, we actually came to discuss things with you,” Gamora says, clearing her throat to make Andy break away from the kiss. April follows his face aggressively, making him lean further and further back until the two fall onto the ground. His foot catches on a chord and brings a computer monitor crashing down to the floor with them.

Ron sighs. “That’s eight, Andy. If you reach fifteen, I will no longer allocate government funds for the monitors you destroy.”

“Sorry,” Andy says, picking himself and April off the floor. He doesn’t bother trying to clean up the mess. Kerry will probably do that because he doesn’t have anything else to do with his life except to wait for death, or so April often says. Drax and Gamora are staring him like he’s an alien, which is pretty funny considering the circumstances.

“Ron, can I talk to them? It’s important, probably,” Andy asks.

Ron stares at him. “You are asking if I will let you waste government time and money while you discuss things with past acquaintances.”

Andy blinks.

“That’s a yes,” Ron says explicitly. “Use one of the other conference rooms if you must. You’re distracting everyone else, and if we don’t accomplish something, Leslie will likely have a panic attack or something equally unappealing.”

Andy nods and totes April, Drax, and Gamora to a conference room down the hall. It’s empty with nice, spinney chairs that Andy immediately slides into and tries to make himself sick on.

Gamora breaks his ride suddenly by grabbing the chair arms, and getting sick becomes a very real possibility.

“May we speak alone, without April?” Gamora asks. But she isn’t asking April, she’s asking Andy. He can’t help but find it funny that she thinks he has any say in what April does.

“No,” April answers. Gamora stares April down, and April just stares back. Andy shrugs.

Everyone is still standing and it makes Andy think that maybe he should be standing too, but he doesn’t because he’s just got comfortable.

“Wanna sit down to talk?”

Andy knows the answer from them is a blatant no, but Drax nods and takes the seat on Peter’s left, Gamora his right. April grabs a chair from the lower end of the table and drags it until it’s astride Andy’s own chair. She takes his hand below the table.

“We just want to see if we can jog your memories is all,” Gamora says.

“That is not my aim,” Drax says plainly, and Andy can sense the tension between the two. In fact, they glare at each other across the table, and Andy thinks maybe the fact they didn’t sit next to each other was more purposeful that he thought.

He doesn’t want to spark anything, so he focuses on Gamora.

“I don’t really want to,” Andy says.

“Why not? You’ll have all your memories back, you’ll remember your childhood, your friends, adventures, you _mother_.” Gamora says all of this matter-of-factly.

Andy’s breath almost hitches because that is really tempting. Mostly the part about his mother. He doesn’t remember anything, but there is this aura around the subject, around the title that draws him in with melancholy and fondness and love.

“He’s fine without them,” April glowers. Andy shakes himself from his distant thoughts.

“And I like being here,” Andy adds.

“And if after you remember things you choose to stay here, we won’t do anything about it,” she says. Andy believes her because she looks so pained and sad behind her eyes.

“We don’t want to hurt you, Peter,” she says lowly.

Andy squirms at the name.

He believes them. He doesn’t know why, and the not knowing part is beginning to bother Andy. As a guy who relies on his gut impressions, he’s finding this whole situation getting confusing. He knows implicitly that he trusts them with his life. He knows he cares about them. How that happened, is in the ‘do not know’ category. He does know he wants to be around them. He does. They are all really neat people, if rusty on some sides and awkward on others. But he also wants to stay away from them because things and people and situations that make April uncomfortable or unconfident don’t fit in with who he is and what he does, which is be an awesome person. The primary task in that is being an awesome fiancé for April.

He thinks, slowly, that he needs to maybe understand a little bit better so he can remedy these two parts of him. It sounds like a good idea in practice, but he’ll just have to see if it works in theory. Wait, no, if that’s practice, then he’ll see it in game, not theory. He’s pretty sure that’s the right metaphor.

“Okay,” Andy says at length. Gamora exhales and manages a tight smile while Drax merely snorts. “What do you have in mind?”

“First I want to check something.” She reaches towards her jaw and something clicks. “What’s your favorite food, Peter?”

“I told you my name isn’t Peter, but it’s probably brownies. How is this supposed to help?”

“Andy!” April shouts.

“What?” he asks.

“Speak English!”

“I am?”

“You’re speaking Xandarian, or Common. Many people in the galaxy speak it.” Gamora frowns. “It seems your other mental capacities are unharmed.”

“He is well within the realms of sanity to be making choices,” Drax says, and it makes Gamora glare daggers at him.

“Am I stuck this way?!” Andy asks. “Will I have to learn English again?!”

“Just concentrate, Peter,” Gamora says. She clicks something below her skin again. “Listen and copy my pattern.

“Oh man, I am so getting fired for this.” Andy puts his head in his hands. “I can’t work a job without being able to speak English. Unless I learn Scottish.”

“Babe,” April says sighing. She’s relaxed, so Andy chances a word.

“April?”

“I can understand. You’re speaking English again. I guess now all those times I thought you were talking nonsense in your sleep, you were actually speaking another language.” April rubs her thumb over his knuckles.

Andy sits up and rubs his eyes. He… he didn’t like that at all, it was disorientating. April, ever aware of his mood and how it can flag when he’s anxious, smirks.

“Hey, babe, this is pretty cool. You can put you’re bi-lingual on your resume now and I bet we can really freak people out with this. You can teach it to me and we’ll have our own language here because no one else can speak it. We can pretend to curse people and be in a cult and put alien curses on Terry until he dies,” she smiles and he can’t help but smile back.

“Babe, I don’t even remember how to speak it,” Andy says half-heartedly, a small smile building.

“We’ll figure it out.”

Gamora clears her throat before they go to make-out again.

“I think you have chosen a fine mate,” Drax says. “She is violent, possessive, and cruel. Wonderful qualities in any spouse.”

And he really does think that, Andy can tell.

Gamora makes a displeased sound when Drax gives her a look.

The tension between the two is really getting on Andy’s nerves for some reason. If they don’t get along, then why are they on a crew? Wait, why would Peter know them to begin with. Their prison story is more complex when he considers it was probably a prison in space… He was probably a space-outlaw which is all kinds of awesome.

“How did I even end up in space,” Andy asks. “I mean, I don’t know anyone else who has, and astronauts don’t speak Zanbarbian.”

“Xandarian,” Drax corrects. He looks to Gamora whose eyes slide away from all of them. Andy wonders if he swore her to secrecy or something. Since she’s telling him though, it’s probably alright and if he remembered her, he’d forgive her for the circumstances. He likes to think he isn’t 100% a dick.

Eventually she clears her throat and meets his eyes.

“When you were nine standard Terran years of age, your mother died of something you called ‘cancer,’” Gamora explains carefully at length. Andy’s heart hurts a little, so he’s glad that she’s going slow.

“You were at the hospital and she gave you another mix-tape, different than the one I showed you. Something she said upset you that day.”

‘ _Peter, take me hand. Take my hand, Peter.’_

The words echo somewhere in his mind and Andy shudders. The soft voice is sad, but not scary, and when it fades, he finds himself missing the presence already.

“You ran out of the hospital and was picked up by the Ravagers, who are generally scum,” Gamora continues.

“Percolating pond matter is not similar to the Ravagers,” Drax says.

“Metaphor, big guy,” Andy murmurs. Both Gamora and Drax stare at him, but he isn’t paying that much attention to them. Because the word ‘ravager’ elicits an image of red leather…

“I do not know what you were doing for those years, but twenty some Terran years passed and then we met in some rather extraordinary circumstances,” Gamora continues.

Andy stares for a long moment. He was in space that long? It’s a strange story that is almost frightening in how real it feels to him. Space seems vast and wide and like it might swallow him up if he let it. Getting kidnapped and taken up there, far away from this place makes his heart-rate increase.

 That scariness has his asking his next question.

“If I did used to hang out with you all… you know, _up there_ , then how did I end up here? Are you sure I wasn’t trying to go back home?” Andy ask.

“I am sure,” Gamora says.

“As am I.” Drax nods.

On this Gamora and Drax are completely aligned.

“You did not identify this planet as home any longer,” Drax says. “ _The Milano_ was our home.”

Andy doesn’t miss the use of _our._ It weighs heavily on his mind the way things normally don’t. They make it sound like he _had_ a family and life set up there too. Maybe not as polished, nor as easy, but a life, scrappy and genuine the way Andy has always tried to be…

He can almost taste it, that life. Flying among the stars, the music and fighting and laughter and weapons and rare dancing and skirting the law like the dust from planets and food from a processer that made things from carbon cubes and holster rockets for emergency escapes and red leather given to him from someone important and—

Andy feels a little dizzy. He leans his head against his arms on the desk. His head _hurts._

April is immediately there.

“Andy.” She shakes him. “Andy!”

“Friend Peter, are you alright?” Drax queries.

Andy shakes his head once, twice and waits for the world to move back into focus. It doesn’t completely though. It remains a little dissonant. He can’t deny the question anymore, about whether it ever will regain harmony after everything he’s learned.

But it doesn’t up-haul who he is. As April stares at him, he knows there is nothing he can do but cup her face and smile.

“Maybe I should get new eyes from our free health card. I’m getting headaches and all dizzy all the time.”

“They let you purchase eyes here?” Drax asks. “New colors may be a pleasing change.”

Andy laughs at that. The sound comes a little slowly to him but he means it. Gamora’s emotions are locked away, and Andy knows she’s upset.

“That all sounds really cool. I’m glad I had cool friends like you all up there.” _Family_ is the word he knows is right, but won’t say. “But I’m really happy here. I’m okay.”

“So you really, truly are happy here?” Drax asks, but mostly says.

“Of course,” Andy says, a little offended.

“And you would be unhappy to leave?”

“Well, yeah.”

Gamora grinds her teeth, and the sound is a little like cogs mashing together wrong.

“This is not an informed decision, and you know it, Drax.” Gamora stares at Andy imploringly. “You should remember your history before you make a decision.”

Andy is frustrated and at a loss. He wants to soothe her and push her away and hug her and cry all at the same time.

“I don’t even know what I was like before!” he exclaims eventually. “What decision would I even make then?”

Gamora leans back. “You were the stupidest, bravest, kindest man I ever knew. You were an incurable flirt with a knack for quick-thinking and, as you would say, ‘weaseling your way out of things.'"

That doesn’t sound like Andy at all. The stupid and brave and kind parts all make sense, but no one has ever accused Andy of thinking quickly. Even now, he’s struggling to muster some kind of response.

“Oh,” he manages. It’s the best he can come up with.

He’s saved from any kind of answer by the opening of the door a little, and then the shutting. Then cracking open.

“—only have ten minutes.” That’s Leslie. The door shuts.

“We can be quick, this room is always empty now. Besides, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it before,” Ben slowly opens the door again and Leslie enters the room backwards, eyes still on Ben.

“Well, usually only during Labor Day—“

That’s when she turns and sees the four of them sitting there. Leslie gives a little shout.

Ben enters and echoes her surprise and then the two of them stare at Andy, Gamora, April, and Drax for a long, long moment.

“Are you the performers for the girl-scout rally?” Leslie asks.

“I thought they were coming at three,” Ben says.

“Oh no, are all the clocks in the building off by an hour? I changed them all by hand last week for day-light savings. Of course, if they do get off, then all of them will be off. We would have noticed by now though, right? I would have noticed,” Leslie babbles as she checks her phone.

“We are not performers,” Gamora says.

“I still do not think your idea of sending girls to be your battle scouts is wise,” Drax says.

Leslie and Ben stare again.

“Are you Andy’s friends?” Ben eventually asks.

“Yes,” Gamora answers.

Leslie makes some kind of high-pitched noise of excitement. Gamora stares, uncertain at the bright smile being directed her way for no reason at all. Andy gets that confusion. It’s just Leslie, no drugs or psychotherapy stuff, but it took a while to work that out.

“It’s a pleasure! I’m Leslie Knope, City Councilwoman and deputy director of the Pawnee Parks Department.”

“I see. My name is Gamora. A pleasure for me as well,” Gamora says. She looks as strong and confident as ever, but Andy know she’s super uncomfortable.

“We heard you kidnapped Andy yesterday,” Ben states, putting a hand on Leslie to keep her a little back as he eyes Drax’s imposing stature and Gamora’s multiple, albeit currently empty, weapons pouches. Andy snorts a little. It’s not like Ben can know she has six or seven knives _at least_ hidden elsewhere on her person.

“I am curious about the application of ‘kid’ in regards to our apprehending Quill. Is he not of standard adult age here?” Drax says.

Andy can see Leslie and Ben’s brains working as they parse down Drax’s speech. Andy’s usually the slow one when it comes to understanding things, but Drax he gets loud and clear, for whatever reason.

“I just meant that they took you without his consent,” Ben says slowly. “That’s what April said anyways.”

“Oh. That is true.” Drax smiles.

“Right…” Ben shifts, and Andy sees Leslie’s smile shifting into something a little more tight. Ben touches shoulders with her before looking to Andy. “Do you have those pages I asked for on the accounting sheets for March?”

Andy refocuses his mind on work and gives what he hopes is a convincing nod.

“Uh, yes.”

“Uh, yes?” Ben echoes. “Is that so?”

“Yes..?”

Ben sighs. “Let’s go see, then. Did you put it in your pinball file instead of the documents after you downloaded it? It’s there or the H:drive.”

Andy feels a little warm. Maybe it’s just because he’s predictable, but just like he knows what Gamora and Drax mean with little words and phrases, Ben and April and everyone knows what he means when he stutters and pauses. Maybe Gamora, Drax and the others were his family in the past, but now, the ones he really wants to have this with is everyone in Pawnee. He doesn’t even care if Ben will be giving him disappointed looks all day, he just smiles.

“We aren’t done,” Gamora says voice sharp, and eyes pleading.

“I have work,” Andy says, and he starts heading out the doors back towards their office in the hopes that he can outrun the conversation. Gamora and Drax easily keep pace.

“We should leave him be if this is what he wants,” Drax says as they go into the doors.

Everyone in the office, which now includes Chris, likely because of the hubbub, turns to face their party. Andy ducks his head a little and scratches the back of his neck. He winces as Gamora turns on Drax and growls,

“But we can’t know if this is what Peter actually wants!”

Distance is good. Andy goes to his computer and focuses on pulling up the ‘game’ folder to see if he can find the file. April tags along, hand on his back. He wonders if he can hide underneath her shirt, like she hid when he protected her from the bees, but honestly, his head is probably too heavy for that.

“You are in denial!”

“You are projecting!”

“Hey, hey! Not to interrupt when you’re being all whiny,” a voice calls from the entrance. Andy jerks his head up and sees Rocket walking in with Groot. “But we got an issue.”

Where Gamora and Drax got admiring, somewhat weirded out looks from Andy’s coworkers, Groot and Rocket get dumbfounded stares, especially as Rocket fiddles with a small holoscreen.

“What’s the issue?” Gamora asks.

“Are— are these the girl scout performers, Leslie?” Garry tries, a smile half-quirking from his stunned expression.

“What the hell kind of performers do you humies have if we fucking fit in.”

“That’s not—“ Andy groans and rubs his head.

“Rocket, focus. What’s going on?” Gamora presses again.

“I am Groot.”

“Keep your pants on Gamora, I’m working on it. And Groot, I’m just saying I’ve seen some shit, but girls as military scouts performing for some adult humies— that ain’t even up to my taste.”

“Jesus, Rocket, can you just chill the hell out. Stop the—” Andy cuts himself off, because Rocket’s staring at him with a rough smile, Gamora looks almost hopeful, and April looks the teensiest bit scared. “Am I not speaking English again, April? Aww shit!”

“You have an accent,” Ann says, filling him in as he stares, confused. “I never knew you had an accent.”

“I don’t have—“ He hears it. The light lull in his tone, different emphasis. It sounds southern. Grandpa Quill lives is Missouri, but Grandpa Quill said Andy grew up in Indiana, away from the rest of their family which is why no one really knew him. Then again, Grandpa Quill said Andy’s name was Andy, but he seems to be changing his mind on that, so who knows anyways.

Rocket snorts. “Yeah, you try to hide it, but it’s real thick when you ain’t paying attention.”

Rocket goes to his desk and pushes Andy away with surprising strength. He hooks something into the monitor and it flashes. A holo-screen pulls up, making Tom let out a high-pitched moan of excitement.

Andy wraps his arms around his mid-section. He doesn’t know anymore. He doesn’t know. April rests a hand on his forearm.

“Got it.”

Rocket drags the screen up, and the image spreads over the air-space, showing a downtown city with a smattering of chaos and extraterrestrial destruction; ships are pouring out of a hole in the sky, laser beams shot from above, and giant alien creatures roar mutely from the screen.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” Leslie starts doing her deep breathing exercises, which sums things up for the Parks department. April and Andy tighten their grasps on each other.

“That’s New York City!” Tom exclaims, voice hushed and thin.

“Why didn’t you open with this,” Gamora says, sounding irked of all things. She stalks closer to take in the details. Rocket obligingly zooms in so she can get a better look all while sneering.

“Well, _excuse me_ if I was going at my own pace and you were too busy having a pissing contest with Drax to give a shit!”

“No piss was shed,” Drax says.

“I am Groot.”

“Exactly, and never say shit like that again,” Rocket says. “What’re we dealing with?”

“Looks like Chitauri,” Gamora says.

Andy’s stomach clenches.

“Fuckin’ A.”

“What shall we do?” Drax asks, and he steps forward. All of them are now in a circle, like the people whose office’s they’ve taken over are now a part of the furniture. With the dumbfounded stares at the holoscreens, they may well be. Andy has his eyes on the four strategizing though.

“I am Groot.”

“I know, but let it be said that I wanted to leave,” Rocket says.

“You brought the _Milano_?” Drax asks.

“Just outside.”

“Very well then, let’s…” Drax trails off as his eyes land on Andy, who feels sudden and complete terror fill his body.

“No matter how this goes down, this won’t be remotely friendly airspace for the next couple decades,” Rocket comments.

“Peter, I know you’re nervous, and scared, but this may be the last time we’ll be able to see you for the next while," Gamora says. Andy knows she means ever. She means that if he doesn’t come with them now, he will never see them again. Dread and uncertainty wrack him, but he knows that the mess on the holo-screen, the blasters and destruction, that isn’t for him.

“No… I… My name is Andy.”

“Dammnit Peter, this is the last time we’ll ever see you unless you get your ass in gear _now!_ ” Rocket shouts.

“I’m not Peter!” Andy shouts. "I don’t know how to be that person. This, all this scares me to death. I can’t deal with that, and I can’t be Peter for you, I’m sorry, but I won’t.”

All of them have recoiled, even Drax, who holds a stony posture, but turbulent eyes.

“I am Groot.” Softly spoken, melancholy.

“Yeah, whatever. Who needs him,” Rocket says as he yanks his attachment out of the computer and brushes past Andy. “Have a nice life, meat-bag.”

Drax looks about to say something, but closes his mouth last moment. He tilts his head like a nod.

And then it’s Gamora who looks at him, the only one left who isn’t right by the door, about to step out of his life forever. She begs him, silently, to say something else, offer a contradiction, but no surprising accent, no unknown language will be enough to stop him now. She seems to understand it, as a bitter twist turns her lips.

“It was nice knowing you, Star-Lord,” Gamora whispers before turning to leave. Andy doesn’t register the pain in her eyes, the flicker of red and black hair as she faces away from him, the tears that aren’t visible but he knows exist—

No, Andy is consumed by that single name.

Star-Lord.

Star-Lord.

_Star-Lord._

He falls into space.

And he sees a boy holding his mother’s hand, eating strawberry shortcake with her. He sees her long blonde hair, and sees the boy follow after her with the widest eyes of adoration. He sees a boy near the bed of his sick mother, trying not to cry, trying not to feel, trying not to see as she stretches her hand out to him. He sees the boy running fast, running away. And he sees the boy get taken. He sees the creatures, who seem like monsters at first glance, that take him in. They threaten and tease him into a Ravager. He sees the boy, almost man picking up a girl for the first time, the anxiety, and relief that comes when his lines work, and she smiles before leaving. He remembers his _mixtape._ He remembers his mother’s _mixtape._ Listening to it throughout star systems, until the songs have embedded themselves into his marrow. He sees a man now, he sees the boy still in the man, still struggling against what happened all those years ago. He sees a green-skinned warrior, a cybernetic raccoon, a tree, and a big angry guy. But then he spends time with them, trying to save the galaxy, and he sees a brave woman he admires who kicks ass, he sees an experiment trying to find its way in the world, so caustic and clever and charming, he sees a parent without children, a husband without a wife, a family man without his family, and he sees Groot, and finally he sees the guardians. And all that they are. He sees solar systems with them, the boy, now a man, truly, and the guardians, his friends and family. And then he sees a firefight, a decision, and a crash...

Peter shudders into reality, skin cold, and eyes covered with black spots. It fades though. It fades and he sees his family around him, eyes worried, strained. He reaches up and grabs Gamora’s hand.

“Star-Lord,” he exhales aloud.

“Peter,” she says, worriedly.

“Gamora,” he says. “Drax, Rocket, Groot.”

And they all know, they all realize that he remembers who he is.

With help from his family, Peter gets to his feet and sees the world through new eyes. His coworkers are there, but they don’t seem like his anymore. No, they belong to someone else, but then his eyes land on April, who’s scared, who’s alone, and his heart _aches._ Before he can go to her, hold her, tell her, without knowing, that things will be alright— the seriousness of the situation hits him and he nearly jumps where he stands.

“Shit. We have to stop the Chitauri,” he manages, still weak from the suddenness of his realization. “Terra doesn’t have that kind of firepower. They’ll fuckin’ die.”

“Quill?” Rocket asks, though Peter knows he knows.

“Yeah, it’s me buddy.”

“I am Groot!”

“I agree!” Rocket shouts, little tears on edges of his eyes, “It took you long enough, you prick!”

“Sorry,” he says. “We gotta get back to the _Milano_ before anything happens. I need to suit up and get my weapons and, and—“ He runs out of breath, realizing how fast the world is changing around him.

He stares at the collage of his two families, both fucked up, both together, and both (literally) from different worlds. He stares a second more before turning to April.

“Babe, I—“ And his mouth falters because words have never been invented for this kind of situation no matter what language.

“Whatever, just go!” she urges. Her words are so rude, but he sees them for what they are. He grabs her and kisses her passionately, hastily, before he and his group start running from the office.

“Ron! I have to leave early!” he calls back. “I gotta go to New York to stop an alien invasion!”

He leaves the building, snickering lightly, breathless from it all, and intent on getting back to the _Milano,_ which it feels like he hasn’t seen in ten years. But he has, just the other day. But was that him? He doesn’t know.

Doesn’t have time to think about it, what with an alien invasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, yep. This is officially a mini-crossover with the avengers. This is during the chitauri invasion in the first avengers movie. Time-line? Forgive me...
> 
> I also apologize if the pacing is uneven. Uhm. Thank you for all the support!


End file.
